Sleekeazy's Hair Potion
by psc07
Summary: "James Fleamont Potter, what in name of Merlin happened to your hair?" Euphemia asked in a low tone. Because his hair was even messier than usual – like he hadn't even brushed it, going in every direction in a carefully arranged disarray. "I found my style." James replied.


**Hello everyone! Long time, no see! Hope you're all well.**

 **This short-fic came to me after J.K. released the material on the Potter family.**

 **Say 'AAAH' is not forgotten; I'm slowly writing it.**

 **Hope you enjoy this!**

* * *

Life at the Potter Manor was not an easy one. Happy? Yes. But not easy. Fleamont and Euphemia had always wanted a child, and they loved their son.

But Euphemia couldn't help but hope he was a bit more… peaceful and conformable.

James Potter was a healthy boy, even with his parents' old age at his birth. As any 11 year old wizard, he was more than excited to go to Hogwarts so he could learn all the jinxes, spells and incantations.

He really did not need Potions class with a father like his. Fleamont Potter was the actual owner of Linfred Potions, the potion-making company named after Linfred Potter, the inventor of Skele-gro and Pepperup Potion. Fleamont also enjoyed

But he also wanted to cause all kinds of havoc on that place – if James was able to turn the Village upside down, just imagine the possibilities of what he could do at a _castle_!

That thought also occurred on Euphemia's mind – one more reason to worry.

So ever since the owl brought the brown Hogwarts envelope in a bright Monday morning, Euphemia reserved a part of her day to try and talk some manners into her son – something she had somewhat failed to do in the last 11 years.

"When a professor talks to you, you must answer with a 'yes, ma'am' or a 'no, ma'am', like you do with Mrs. Bagshot, alright?" She said the first day, during dinner. James simply frowned and looked at her seeming to be entertained and replied in the most of the innocent tones:

"What if it's a bloke?"

Euphemia sighed and Fleamont tried (and failed) not to laugh.

But she knew it wouldn't be easy, and she wasn't just going to give up.

"If a girl is carrying a bunch of books, what should you, as a gentleman, do?" Euphemia asked on their way back to home from a visit to her family.

"Easy one, Mrs. Mother" James said, smirking. _Oh, no._ was all Mrs. Potter could think "I'll Wingardium Leviosa those bloody things and offer her a sneak peak at James's Pottery." He finished with a wink.

Euphemia started to get worried. Sometimes she could not know when James was simply joking or when he actually meant his absurd replies. From " 'What should you do if you wish to speak in class?' 'Make sure the professor won't hear my conversation with a mate' " to " 'What's the right thing to do when a wizard takes off his hat in a greeting manner?' 'Make sure there's not even a string of hair left on that now bald head!' ", Euphemia just hoped they _really_ were all jokes (as she would later see, most of them were _not_ ) and continued her revision on "manners 101".

The day before James left for Hogwarts, she was tired and stressed. She had helped James to pack for the third time and the 11 a.m. of the next day could not come any faster.

"Got everything ready?" She asked her son while they had dinner.

"Just missing my broom, but I _guess_ I'll survive..." Euphemia and Fleamont smiled.

"Next year you'll take it." Fleamont said smiling.

" _If_ you behave." Mrs. Potter added.

"Honestly, mum, the way you talk makes me look like a spoiled, impolite brat." James replies. Euphemia only sighed.

"Whoever said you were all this missed 'annoying'. Now go to sleep, yeah? Big day tomorrow." James was grinning and his parents couldn't help but smile in answer.

The next morning met an anxious Euphemia and an excited Fleamont.

"He's _got_ to go to Gryffindor!" He was saying. "Brave at heart and all that."

"Don't worry, love," Euphemia said, "his middle name is Fleamont. He's had many fights to build up his brave side."

Fleamont could only glare at his wife because James took his place at the table.

"How you're feeling, son?" Fleamont asked.

"I'm okay" James shrugged, but he was fooling no one "Excited to go, but that's all." He said and ran a hand through his hair.

And that's when Euphemia looked at his hair.

"James Fleamont Potter, what in name of _Merlin_ happened to your hair?" She asked in a low tone.

Because his hair was even messier than usual – like he hadn't even brushed it, going in every direction in a carefully arranged disarray.

"I found my style." James replied.

"And by 'style' you mean doing the worst thing you could?" Euphemia asked again. She could not believe her son.

James simply smirked and ran his hand through his hair again.

"I just realised trying to get it in place is useless. So I just embraced the mess and made it the Potter style. People will remember me. And my hair."

"For the love of Merlin, James...!" Euphemia sighed.

"Besides…" He said, messing up his hair even more and smirking, "girls dig it."

By then, both Euphemia and Fleamont were holding themselves: she was trying not to scream while her husband was trying not to laugh.

"C'mon, mum. You know it's simply useless to try and tame it." James continued, filling his plate with eggs.

"Useless?" She asked a bit angry still.

"It gets messy anyway." He said, finishing his food and shrugging. "It's not like you can put something on it and _unmessy_ it..."

Then James left the table to brush his teeth and Euphemia couldn't take it anymore.

"Fleamont Potter, you'd better do something about your son's hair barnet or Merlin help you!"

Fleamont's eyes were wide open then.

"What can _I_ do about it?" He asked a bit surprised with the request.

"Aren't you a bloody potion maker? _Make a bloody potion_!"

* * *

James was happily chatting with his mates at Gryffindor table. Peter was just telling them about his encounter with Filch last night and making Sirius howl with laughter. It had something to do with a trip to the kitchens, a stinky shoe and a toothbrush.

"And then, I kid you _not_ , he _believed_ me!" Now James and Remus joined Sirius.

James could not believe that he had met his friends only seven months before. That he had gone to Hogwarts only seven months before.

A flash of red hair drew his attention and he automatically ran a hand through his hair.

Lily Evans noticed and rolled her eyes. He smirked. James knew it bothered her both his hair and him messing the hair.

Just then the mail arrived. He waited for Remus's copy of the Daily Prophet. His father had told him to keep an eye on today's edition because the potion he had been working for the past half year would be on it.

He was eager to see it, but he decided to wait Remus finish reading it.

Just then a piece of paper was shoved on his plate and he recognized the rings on the hand, so he looked up smiling already.

"Saw something on the paper that might suit you." Evans said, wearing a poorly concealed smirk. The curiosity grew on him so he ran a hand through his hair, grabbed the piece of paper - clearly from the Daily Prophet - and adjusted his glasses.

 _After a long period with no new inventions, Linfred Potions surprised the magic world with the release of a new potion._

 _The bigger surprise, however, was the fact that the potion is a beauty product._

 _"_ _People seem to forget how much hair can mean to witches and wizards. It might change your humour, your entire personality. That_ _'_ _s why Sleekeazy_ _'_ _s Hair Potion is so important._ _"_ _Was the official statement of Fleamont Potions._

 _Unofficially, our reporter seemed to hear what sounded like_ _"_ _sometimes you must show your son you_ can _unmessy it."_

 _Sleekeazy_ _'_ _s Hair Potion_ _–_ _Two drops tames even the most bothersome barnet!_

James could not hold his laughter back. His father had, in fact, made a bloody potion.

"Maybe his son has a ridiculous hair just like yours..." Evans said, full smirk on her face now. James smirked back.

"Maybe he just found his style."


End file.
